Charged With Espionage
by Soccergirl08
Summary: Tristan and Paris are CIA agents who live out their lives stealing secrets from foreign officials and changing their identities to keep a low profile. Will an unexpected call uncover a hidden past? And will the introduction of Rory stir up trouble? REVIEW
1. Out of the Corner of My Eye

_Paris Geller is a CIA agent, who lives out her life stealing secrets from foreign officials and changing her identity to keep a low profile. Though her life is hectic and lonely, it definitely heats up after she meets a convict on the run named Tristan Dugrey. Can the two learn to work together or will they risk exposing themselves in the process?? Review!!! POV: Paris_

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I was raised in a devout Jewish family with five brothers ranging in age from twenty-seven to ten years old. My mother was a homemaker and a friend whenever you needed a little boost after a long, hard day. When I was little, I use to follow her around like a lost puppy and partook in anything that she would do around the house. If she was sweeping, I was sweeping. To me, the whole thing was just a fun, little game of follow the leader.

The true leader in our family though was my father, Lieutenant Jarred Geller, military informant for the United States' army. He was a man of pride and anything controversial. If you ever got into a fight with him, the odds are that you would lose automatically. My father studied the art of speech and debate in his free time, and loved to have arguments with my brothers and me. I can still remember him now, leaned back in his chair with his feet propped up on top of the desk. There was usually a fat cigar slanted downwards from his mouth, creating puffs of smoke in the air.

"What stand do you take on this issue?" he would ask in a gruff voice, as he grotesquely inhaled the toxic fumes from the cigar. My hands would be folded neatly in my lap and my gaze resting on the floor.

"I have no real opinion…" I stammered in a small voice. His eyes would narrow and pierce through my tiny frame; analyzing and observing my movements.

"Neutrality is a choice, and it's the wrong one…" he barked, as he slid forward and dabbed the ashes into the tray.

To be quite frank, my father was a tough man, but I admired him for that. When money was tight and tragedy struck the nation, he would always be there to hold us together.

My thoughts were interrupted by a loud chuckle heard from a little ways away. Dim lighting hovered over the pocket-sized café. It was in the evening, no later than 6:00 pm, as the sun prepared to rest behind the shadows. Rays of light glared through the maroon curtains of the shop and fell short across the hardwood floor.

I was seated alone in the corner with my newspaper neatly folded in front of me. Low murmurs and the occasional banging of cups against porcelain plates were heard. I peered around me only to come across intimate circular tables lined along the walls and the windows. The general appearance created such a cozy and inviting atmosphere. I smiled ever so slightly and then, tipped my eyes back down towards the words written in ink:

"_United States government seeks to secure lines with Chinese officials…"_

I had seen this type of rubbish all too well. It was printed and reprinted in practically every magazine and newspaper in the world. Problems existed internally within both governments, causing a CIA agent, like myself, to automatically work overtime. My whole life revolved around staying aware and attentive to all my surroundings. I could tell you how many people were seated at the bar, what they were wearing and how many drinks they've had already without looking up another time. It came along with the job description.

The small bell on the door rang, signaling that someone had entered the café. I briefly looked up, trying not to appear too conspicuous, and traced my eyes from the old men sitting at the bar to the new comer. He had a light head of hair, tossled and muddled a bit. Stormy blue eyes peeked through the strands. I gazed back down at the article in front of me. I had already spent too much time observing him. The maximum limit an agent was supposed to survey an individual was around five seconds.

The man sauntered past my table and sat one over. My fingers gripped tightly around the newspaper, losing their usual olive cast and acquiring a pale tinge. He was making me nervous. Something about this guy was not quite right. I shifted in the wooden chair for a second and used the milk container plated with silver to view his reflection. The man was in his early twenties, with dull looking clothes and a bland complexion. If someone tried to rob him on the street, they'd be deeply disappointed because the guy hadn't a stitch of wealth on him; no watch, no ring, nothing. I gazed at him through the mirror image for a bit longer, before his eyes shifted over to me.

_Darn…_I thought in my mind, diverting my attention back to the article. I feared that he might have noticed my watchful stare. My thoughts were interrupted by an older woman who was now bringing pastries and coffee to his table. The young man thanked her in a low acknowledgment and then, proceeded to take a sip from the small cup. The energy this guy radiated was detached and outlandish. I knew that he wasn't a local, but nothing more. It's like he was an open book with empty pages.

All of a sudden, the young man scooted back his chair and let a few grayish coins fall against the wooden table. Then, he pulled his coat tightly around him and made his way out of the café. Old men sat smoking their pipes at the bar or slowly sipping their coffee; not noticing the absence of one less member. I got up quickly as well and placed a bill on top of the porcelain plate. Subsequently rolling the newspaper under my arm, I paced out of the shop and into the rapidly approaching night air. The man was speedily walking down the street. I followed him at a safe distance and made barriers between me and the man in question.

He crossed the avenue and darted down a sidewalk towards the town square. I followed him every step of the way. Soon, the distance between us became further and further. Pedestrians and bicyclers blocked my view causing me to stop and do a 360.

"Where is he?" I muttered under my breath; shifting my eyes from person to person, shop to shop. He was gone.

Then, out of nowhere, a hand wrenched my arm and pulled me into an alley. I slammed against a brick wall, as a body pressed firmly against my own.

"Who are you?" he spat brusquely, releasing his palm from over my lips. I stared at him blankly and took a deep breath. His eyes were large and blazing with fury. Small green accents blended into the light blue swirls. I slanted my eyes and bit my lip.

"I might ask the same question" I replied steadily, not dropping my gaze. His heart-shaped face had stubble all down the cheeks. Reddened lips parted to release warm breaths, which tickled my neck.

"Don't be an idiot…I know you were following me!" he roared, pushing me flesh against the wall now. I inhaled sharply and tried to look at anything but him. My eyes landed on a Chinese officer who was now crossing the town square and making his way towards us. Not risking the chance of getting questioned, I dipped my face close to this mysterious man's and kissed him. A loud groan of confusion and unexpectancy exuded from his throat. I released my hands from under him and ran them through his hair. My tongue dove into his mouth, as my lips attacked his hesitant ones. I could feel his grip slowly releasing on me. His hands found their way to the sides of my face and brought me into him. Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as the officer stopped and then, turned to walk away.

Letting out a sigh of relief, I pushed the man back and tried to escape; but his arm caught mine.

"Where the hell do you think you're going?" he demanded, throwing me against the wall again. I tried to steady my breath, but was violently taken by the shoulders and forced to walk with the man. We paced down the alley way through a narrow street.

A dingy building with broken windows and peeling paint stood in direct view.

"Come on…" he barked, peering around him before pulling me up the steps to the place.

The next thing I knew, I was being tied to a chair in a cluttered room with little to no light. Night was approaching quickly over the small town.

"Who are you?" he asked again, while tying the rope into a knot. I tried to free myself by twisting and turning, but it didn't work. He got up from behind me and pulled back my head by my hair. I winced a little from the sudden pain pulsating through my scalp.

"Tell me who you are!" he growled. I narrowed my blue eyes and let my expression remain relaxed.

"You're a spy aren't you? I can tell…" he muttered letting my head fall forward. My blonde strands of hair fell at the sides of my face.

"Why am I here?" I articulated softly. He ambled over to the window and peered out on to the street.

"I wouldn't do that…" I warned. He turned his head and glared at me; his soft blonde hair falling over his eyes.

"And why's that?" he insisted, placing his hands on his hips. My face hardened and my body tensed.

"Because they might be taking pictures…" I asserted calmly.

"Who are you?" he screamed, racing towards me and taking out his gun from his coat pocket. My eyes didn't even flinch. I was trained for this sort of scenario. He held the small black point right in front of my face and yelled:

"Tell me! Who sent you…how many are there?" I furrowed my brow in confusion, as he grabbed the hair on my head and wrenched it forward. I leaned down and allowed him to dust the strands away from my neck.

"Number: 0184762…you're an agent for the United States Central intelligence. I should have known…" His voice trailed off, as he let my head lift upright again. Staring deeply into my eyes, he watched as my chest rose and fell rapidly.

"How did you—" I began slowly, but was cut off. The man placed the gun on top of the coffee table and proceeded to strip off his coat and his shirt. I sighed, as my gaze trailed down his muscular body. A broad chest and well-built stature caused my cheeks to flush. He turned around and pointed to the back of his neck.

"I have the same tattoo. Number: 0184760…we're in the same sanction in the CIA" he announced, quickly spinning around again and retrieving his shirt. I blinked once or twice and looked out the window.

"What were you running from?" I asked monotonically. He pulled his shirt over his head and slipped it down his stomach.

"I'm convicted with murder" he stated bluntly; glancing over at me to see my reaction. Noticing this, I purposefully remained still.

"Who did you murder?" I questioned again.

"I didn't murder anyone…that's the point. Why am I even telling you this?" he roared, picking up the gun from off the table and pointing it at me.

"Tell me your codename or I swear to God, I'll shoot you!"

"What?" I mumbled, pretending to play dumb.

"You know what I said…tell me what your codename is!" His face filled with frustration and hostility. I knew that if I pushed him hard enough, he would kill me.

"So, what…you're just going to sit there and not say anything?" he mocked, taking a few steps toward me. I diverted my gaze away from him and remained nonchalant. The man leaned forward and whispered in my ear:

"Right leg or left leg?" I could fell the cold pistol brush against my bare skin. Gulping with difficulty, I opened my mouth.

"Lima…" I whispered, closing my eyes. It was the hardest thing in the world to admit to someone something so private. I had spent my whole life trying to keep that piece of information confidential.

The man licked his lips and let out a small sneer.

"That doesn't matter…"—he asserted evenly—"we're working for the same people. Codenames are worthless." I opened my eyes and turned my head to look at him. His fingers ran through his hair, as he sat down on the arm of the couch.

"I'm agent Tristan Dugrey a.k.a. Titan. I work for the CIA, sanction 4.2 and graduated last year from the University of Cornell. My head operatives are Josh Glencoe and Harris Mcglaton. Enough said…" His voice disappeared and his eyes gazed down at the floor. My heart stopped beating so fast, as I came to realize that this guy was on my side.

"Who are charged with killing?" I asked in a small voice. The muscles around his eyes twitched.

"Lu Chin Mao's daughter…he was an official for the Chinese Imperial Council." My lips quivered slightly, as my eyelids fluttered.

"If you get convicted here in China, you'll be executed…" I whispered disbelievingly. Tristan nodded his head and ran his hand down the side of his face.

"That's why I thought you were following me…and then, you kissed me" he declared with a slight chuckle, causing me to blush.

"I only did that because—"

"Yes, I know. That officer would have stopped and questioned us…why not make him think we're just two stupid Americans making-out" he asserted teasingly. I rolled my eyes and gritted my teeth.

"That's not funny" I argued defensively. Laugh lines around his eyes and cheeks became visible. He was actually a very handsome man.

"Look, will you untie me now?" Tristan stared at me for a moment and then, made his way over to the chair.

"You're too memorable to be a spy" he commented, as the rope loosened around my body. I pulled myself up and tossed the rope onto the floor.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I inquired apprehensively. A smirk crept onto his face, as a finger brushed down the side of mine. My breath caught in my throat and my blood began to race through my veins. Tristan bit his lip and concentrated on my chin. Then, out of nowhere, he ripped my necklace right off my neck and dangled it in the air.

"Collateral…" he stated firmly, while backing up.

"Give that back! Collateral for what?" I yelled in protest, hitting him against the chest. He continued to walk backwards with my silver chain suspended over my head.

"Incase you run to the authorities and tell them where I'm staying…you have to let me hold something in return. Let me guess, your mother or a boyfriend gave you this—"

"Stop it!" I cut in clutching onto his shirt and arms. My goal was to lower his hand and grasp my precious treasure. He finally stumbled backwards and fell onto the couch. I followed suit and ended up above him. The necklace now lay on top of his rapidly rising and falling chest. I didn't dare grab or touch him; too afraid to leave the wrong impression.

"What are you waiting for?" he inquired, peering up into my eyes. My long strands of hair cascaded down near his face. Tristan's fingers grazed along my sides and rested on my exposed waist. The sensation was bitter sweet and left me feeling disoriented. After being alone and detached from people for so many years, it was nice to find someone in the same situation.

"Now, will you please give that back…I promise I won't tell the authorities. I'd risk getting exposed myself." Tristan debated my argument in his head and finally gave a quick nod. Picking up the delicate chain, he dangled it in front of my face and waited for me to claim it.

"Thank you" I whispered, as I snatched it from his hand and proceeded to stand upright. Tristan's eyes followed my every movement causing my nerves to jump out of control.

Then angrily, I stormed out of the rickety apartment and through the hallway. I managed to pull myself down the steps before a hand turned me around and pushed my body against the smooth wall.

"Stop…"—he uttered—"I didn't mean to be such a jerk. Stay if you want. I'd like to finally talk to someone who speaks English around here." I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I couldn't help but sympathize with what he was asking. Being a CIA agent was an extremely lonely and hectic job.

"If you're a spy, then you know that I have to go" I asserted faintly. With one last glance, I continued to descend the wobbly staircase. I didn't bother to turn my head back and check if he was following me; it wouldn't have mattered. I merely composed my expression and blended in with the crowd on the street; something that I had grown accustomed to.


	2. The Next Mission

A few days had passed since the last time that I had seen the mysterious spy. I often times found myself wondering what he was doing and whether or not he was safe.

My heels clanked against the pavement, as I meandered through the rain. Long blonde strands were matted down against my head and mascara ran down my cheeks. I tossed my gaze from side to side, examining the young woman buying bananas and the little boy riding a bicycle. Everything seemed normal, until a black van stopped outside a run-down store. Two Asian men dressed in dark clothing got out of the vehicle and paraded into the building. My head turned both ways in uncertainty. I noticed that the street was empty. Vendors were leaving their stands and people in cramped apartments were closing their shutters. Something was going down.

Within seconds, an explosion erupted in massive proportions, knocking me off my feet. I flew backwards and landed on the street some ten feet away. Gravel and dust consumed the air, choking my lungs. A loud scream was heard echoing in the distance and deafening sirens began to roar through the air. It was the Chinese police force. I quickly scrambled to my feet and cradled my immobile arm. The limb seared with pain and bled profusely. I was almost positive that it was broken.

Shouts were heard a short distance away, as the cry of sirens continued to pierce through the air. I ran as fast as I could through the rain and up the street. Turning down a narrow alley way, I dogged low hanging clotheslines and garbage cans. Paper and filthy rats scurried about.

Ten minutes later, I was stumbling up the steps of a dingy building and pounding on a door. Footsteps were heard on the other side, before the door flung open and there stood Tristan.

"What happened?" he demanded, quickly pulling me into the small apartment. Once he was sure that we were alone, Tristan brought me over to the couch and made me sit down.

"There was an explosion in one of the market areas and these two guys—" I was cut off by the immense pain pulsating through the bone.

"Your shoulders dislocated…" he announced, gently brushing my skin with an old shirt that was lying on the couch.

"What am I going to—Awww!" I screeched, shutting my eyes tightly.

"Shhh…it's alright" he consoled trying to calm me down. I bit my lip and forced back the tears that welled in my eyes. Loud sighs escaped my mouth, as I tried to steady myself. An incredible throbbing feeling snaked up my bloody arm.

"Look, all I can do right now is pop it back in, alright? But, I'm going to need you to trust me." I took several breaths and nodded my head. Tears were now streaming down my face, as he took my arm in his lap. Then, tenderly holding my shoulder between his fingers, Tristan shifted the bone out and back into its socket. I screamed bloody murder and fell forward against his chest. Loud sobs ricocheted off the walls of the tiny room.

"It's finished…shhh…it's all done" he whispered, running his fingers through my wet strands of hair. Then, Tristan lifted me off of him and ripped the old shirt down the center. Carefully elevating my arm, he created a sling across my chest.

"This should hold for a little while. Just take a deep breath" he ordered, wiping my tear-stained face. I did as he directed and attempted to slow my heart rate. My vision became less blurry once more and the feeling returned in my fingers.

"You said there was an explosion?" he questioned with a furrowed brow. I nodded my head slightly and licked my salty lips.

"It was premeditated…" I whispered in a faint voice. Tristan sniffed a little and cleared his throat. His soft blonde strands of hair shadowed his eyes and hid his expression.

"You shouldn't have come here"—he began too softly to be heard—"it's not safe. If they would have stopped you, I mean…"

Tristan ran his fingers through his hair and closed his eyes. I could tell that he was upset; not at me per say, but at the fact that I could have gotten seriously injured.

"Then, I should go…" I muttered in a small voice. Holding my arm to support the sling, I picked myself up and walked to the door.

"Wait…I didn't mean you should leave now" he called, letting his hands limply drop to his sides. I turned around and stopped; cold and distant. His chest rose and fell and his face flushed. Those charming blue eyes diverted up to the ceiling and closed quickly.

"I hate this!" he shouted callously. I flinched a little and stood my ground.

"I hate the fact that people die and others live because they say so!"

The "they" he was referring to were the head honchos at the Central Intelligence office in Washington D.C. I bit my lip and cast my gaze down towards the cracked floor.

"They're making you relocate tonight, aren't they?" I questioned in a shaky voice. Tristan sighed and put both hands behind his head. I keenly gazed upon the muscular ridges that outlined his arms.

"I'll be in Shanghai by tomorrow…" he whispered hoarsely. My breaths came out ragged and my hand shot out to balance myself. A tear rolled down my cheek.

"It's expected…" I declared with a trembling lip. A small sympathetic smile washed over his face, as he advanced towards me.

I didn't have time to speak or react. Tristan's head bent downwards, as his hands rested ever so slightly against my hips. My eyes glided upwards and locked with his blue ones.

Immediately, his lips gently kissed along the side of my face. I turned my head to pull away, but I ended up shifting closer to him.

With a little tug on my bottom lip, Tristan brushed his hand against my cheek and hazily gazed down onto my face. His lips were playing with my parted ones; just grazing against the supple skin.

"Something to remember me by…" he whispered in a low voice. I nodded and pulled away; a smile formulating on my face. I loved the way his eyes looked so untroubled and clouded at the moment. All his concentration and energy was on me; exactly what I wanted.

Leaving the apartment building was one of the hardest things I ever had to do. I wanted more than anything to stay with him, but I knew I couldn't. I also knew that it was extremely dangerous for me to delay his departure tonight. When the boss tells you to relocate, you relocate without any questions asked. And I understood that. It just annoyed me that I couldn't see him again. Shanghai was far away from the little town of Linwei. Even if I tried to visit him, I would only make matters worse. Someone would find out who he was and throw him in jail for life. The whole situation was complicated. I only hoped that this wouldn't be the last time our paths crossed.

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"Your mission is to head to Hong Kong by tomorrow. You will take on the role of a wealthy American named Anna Ferris from Albany, New York. All the details will be given to you later on. The goal is to gather information from a guy named Su Chin about one of our key operatives…her name is Kayla Debar" the voice on the other line announced. He was my eyes and ears whenever I carried out a top-secret mission.

"Now, the car should be picking you up any minute. Just remain calm and act normal, okay?"

I mumbled a "yes" in reply and speedily hung up the payphone. Telephones inside the apartment or anywhere isolated could not be trusted. They might either be bugged or wired to some other tracking device nearby. That was not a chance that I was willing to take.

My things were neatly packed and ready to go in a small suitcase. I didn't have very many belongings because majority of my stuff was just the necessities: toothpaste, some clean clothes, gadgets, etc. Honestly, I hadn't gone shopping for a luxury item in over two years. The job was my life. It consumed every chance of having a normal existence or a close relationship with anyone.

A black Cooper with a thin, white stripe down the hood steered over to the curve. The ride was intended for me. I could tell by the scruffy looking driver in the front seat. His name was Zack Sefransky, a super genius hacker and speed demon, when it came to out-running the bad guys.

I paced over to the side of the vehicle and knocked on the window. A smile immediately flashed onto his face.

"Happy to see you too" I giggled, as I heaved my suitcase into the backseat and then, proceeded to plop myself down as well.

"How's everything?" he asked quickly. I shrugged my shoulders and pushed the question aside. My hand shot to the door handle and pulled the door shut. We were off down the crowded street dogging pedestrians and bicyclers alike. It was dangerous to drive in China because no one obeyed traffic symbols or speed limits for that matter.

I peered over at my longtime friend and smirked.

"You haven't changed in the least…" I remarked teasingly. He had shagged brown hair and hazel eyes. Narrow glasses rested on the hood of his nose and shadowed the unshaven sides of his cheeks. I watched a smile form on his chapped lips, causing me to grin even more. It was good to have at least one person that you could count on and wouldn't have to pretend around.

"Did Ben fill you in about the mission over the phone?" Zack questioned with a little cough.

"What? Are you sick or something?" I inquired in a sudden fashion. The silence was filled with a few more coughs and a slurping of snot before he finally answered.

"Yah, it's this darn cold. I haven't been able to get any sleep for days." I nodded my head and wrapped my jacket tightly around my body.

"It's freezing this time of year. The heater broke in the building…" I began through chattering teeth. A cool gust of air was seeping in through the cracks and soaking up our body heat.

"See that folder back there…" Zack muttered, as he motioned towards the backseat. I turned my head and gazed behind me to find a vanilla packet of papers lying next to my suitcase. Grabbing it with my left hand, I lifted the folder over to my lap and opened the flap. My name was printed in bold letters on the first page.

"That should tell you everything you need to know about your next mission…" he remarked in a drowsy voice. I flipped through each paper, acquiring knowledge about the character I was to become. My name would be:

_Anna Ferris, age: 21_

_Born in Los Angeles, California_

_Currently lives in Albany, New York_

_Once married and divorced to Michael Ferris…_

I turned to the last couple of pages to find a total profile on some guy; and it wasn't Su Chin. The name at the top read:

_Tristan Dugrey—Undercover agent for CIA, sanction 4.2_

"What is this?" I inquired breathlessly. Zack glanced over briefly and nodded his head in comprehension.

"Oh, that's the guy you're going to be working with. Why you know him?"

I shrugged my shoulders and looked out the window. Several houses with ceramic tile roofs and traditional wooden doorways stood all around us.

"Vaguely…" I muttered under my breath.

"Did you read the part about your ex-husband?" Zack asked quickly.

"Yah" I answered, as I turned around to face him. His eyes were sleepy and somber looking.

"He's taking on the role of Michael Ferris, an American stock broker for Su Chin…as well as 'your' ex-husband." The words pounded into my head and caused my stomach to do flips.

"He'll be accompanying you to the ball held at the Chairman's villa tonight. I forewarn you though, he looks different from the last time you've probably seen him—"

"What do you mean?" I cut in with sudden haste. Zack scanned over the now open road in front of him and turned to answer.

"Spy's dye their hair or change their style, accents, background, eye color, you name it to remain separate from the person they were before." I shifted my body in order to face forward. It saddened me that Tristan would be a different person than I last knew him to be. I liked the individual that he was around me: that was the real him.

"What has he changed?" I inquired, as I diverted my gaze out the window. My cheeks flushed and it became harder to breathe. The cold air narrowed the insides of my throat, causing me to open my mouth wider to take in oxygen.

"You're really interested in this guy aren't you?" Zack teased.

"What? I am not!" I protested with a slight shrill in my voice. Zack only allowed a crooked smile to formulate on his lips. We continued to pass a large crowd of children making their way to school.

"He has light brown hair, same eye color and a more sophisticated appearance. Other than that, Tristan's the same…" I let out a sigh of relief and leaned back in the seat.

"How many more hours before we reach Hong Kong?" I questioned in a small voice. Zack glanced at the digital clock and then, checked the road signs.

"About four more…once we get there, I'll drop you off at a salon to get your hair and make-up done. After that, we'll swing by the hotel and retrieve your dress." I nodded my head in approval and remained silent the rest of the way. Zack's previous comment had caused me to put my guard up. Sure, I found this Tristan guy attractive and enticing, but I hardly knew who he was and whether we were compatible.

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_Hey Guys:_

_This is a totally different twist from the show, but I hope you've liked it thus far:) If you have or if you haven't, please review and tell me!! I'm open to any plot suggestions, changes that could be made in the story, anything. So, REVIEW b/c I'd really appreciate it. Thanks:)_

_Brittany_


	3. The Chairman's Villa

"What would you like done to your hair?" the woman with diamond shaped eyes and glossy black hair inquired. She was extremely beautiful; the epitome of elegance and grace in Chinese standards. I blinked once or twice and looked up at her in the mirror.

"Anything that you would deem appropriate…" I declared with a kind smile. The woman ran her fingers through my hair and nodded.

"Okay, then."

I giggled a little and gazed at my reflection in the mirror.

The woman washed and conditioned my hair with sweltering hot water. She applied a gel that shone like glitter and intensified the various shades of color in my hair. Then, the woman wrapped it up in a flowing bun, leaving only a simple strand to frame the side of my face.

Next thing on the list was my make-up. Titling my face up into the light, the woman used a brush to paint the shimmering gloss onto my lips.

My eyes were the following priority. A dark pencil drawn out on either side extended the largeness and slant of them. The cheeks were polished with a pale peach and my eyelashes were lengthened to the max.

When Zack came to pick me up and take me to the hotel, he froze in shock. My very appearance had stopped him in his tracks. I felt like the loveliest creature that walked the earth.

"Wow, you look…" His voice cracked and his bottom lip quivered. I ignored his insentient drooling and ambled to the vehicle parked out front.

The hotel was the most lavish building I had ever seen. It might have even given the Ritz Carlton a run for its money. The entranceway consisted of marble pillars and maids dressed in sophisticated suits. The occupants who came to stay at this hotel were definitely the wealthy and powerful figures. Women with fur coats and diamond studded purses ascended the massive staircase.

"I can't fit in here…" I complained with a creased forehead. Zack sympathetically ran his hand down my arm and smiled.

"You'll do just fine. Come on." We scrambled out the car and collected my things. Walking up the stairs was an experience on its own. Maids bowed and men exiting the hotel turned to stare at me. I felt like the empress of some important nation. My cheeks immediately reddened and my gaze diverted to the floor. I wasn't use to gaining so much attention from people; especially when it came to the opposite gender.

"Your room is number 203B, alright?" I'd come with you, but I have other things to attend to first" Zack announced with a regretful frown. I grabbed his arm reassuringly and gently kissed him on the cheek.

"I'll be fine…" I whispered. Zack blushed and turned to exit out to his car. I continued through the grand lobby and made my way over to the elevators. _Room 203B, room 203B…_repeated in my head over and over again, as my mission began.

When I did finally find the room number, I swiped the card down the depositor and waited for the green light to flash. The door clicked and the handle automatically turned for me. I pushed the door open to find a large suite with a humongous bed in the center. Satin, silk, and linen were the common fabrics throughout the space. Flipping on the light, I found my dress hanging near the window.

The top was halter like, with a narrow-fitted waist and long flowing fabric down to the bottom. The color was pure white and consisted of tiny crystal-detailing along the hem. I quickly dropped my suitcase and ran across the room to grip the gown incased in plastic. The tag on the outside read "$55, 000 Yuan."

My mouth dropped open and my eyes widened. It was made of the finest silk and hand-designed by a woman who lived somewhere in Northern China. My fingers carefully ripped through the plastic and slipped the gown down from the hanger.

"Oh my god…" were the only words that could make their way past my lips. I closed the door to the room and cautiously stripped off my clothing. Then, I slid the white gown over my head and tried to avoid touching my hair. It was absolutely gorgeous in the mirror, but way too risqué for my taste. The curve of my breasts were exposed through the plunging neckline, which stretched as far as my stomach. And the fabric clung so tightly to my figure, that I felt naked almost.

"I hope this works…" I mumbled under my breath, as I stuck a pair of chandelier earrings through my holes.

A limo was scheduled to pick me up around 6:30pm and take me to meet Tristan at a nearby restaurant. There, I would catch up on our mutual dealings with the mission and come to terms. Zach had not come back from his so called 'errands,' which made me slightly nervous all the more.

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"So, you're on your way to meet Tristan, I mean Michael, right?" Zack questioned over the phone inside the limo. I gave a brief sigh and chuckled.

"You know, you worry too much" I responded with an amused voice. Zack exhaled into the receiver and sneered.

"Well, if I didn't, somebody wouldn't be here right now…"

I nodded my head, knowing exactly what he was referring to. If Zack hadn't put his life on the line for me all those times before, I wouldn't have been sitting in that vehicle at the moment.

"You know I appreciate everything you do for me—"

"I've gotta go…"—Zack cut in suddenly—"we'll talk later, alright?" I hung up the phone and slid back into the leather interior. A part of me was afraid to move because I didn't want to mess up anything. My make-up, my hair, my dress…everything was perfect.

The vehicle came to a slow stop next to a fancy building. There were hanging lights and beautiful arrangements of flowers scattered about. The limo driver opened my door and extended his hand, as his way of showing courtesy. I flashed him a discreet smile and scooted off the backseat. My legs felt like jello and wobbled when I began to walk. Whoever invented stilettos should have been hung at the moment. They caused my feet to ache and my ankles to throb.

"Right this way…" a man asserted, as I approached the steps. He was short and stubby looking with the usual almond-shaped eyes. His balding head showed great attempts in the masterful art of disguising hair loss.

I followed him all the way into the restaurant and marveled at the dimly lighted space. Silk consisting of patterns and images were hung on the walls and on the floors near the low-seated tables. It was traditional and foreign in so many ways. Soft music of the Chinese origin was heard in the background. The man led me to a back table where I saw _him_.

Tristan stood up immediately and brought his hands down to his sides. He was wearing a tuxedo with a pinstriped shirt underneath. His hair had gotten considerably darker, but his gorgeous eyes remained the same color. Tristan was cleanly shaven and very put together.

I walked in slow strides and gracefully kneeled. Tristan did the same and peered at me through the weak lighting.

"It's been a long time…" he whispered. It took every ounce of courage within me to lift my eyes and look into his. He was baffling and handsome. I noticed his cheeks turning red and fits of laughter emerge from his lips.

"What's so funny?" I demanded in a defensive tone. Tristan only bit his lip and sighed. There was a tension in the air that I had never felt before. Something about us being not even a couple feet away from one another was unbearable.

"Where'd you get that dress?" he asked suddenly. I glanced down at my skimpily covered chest and gazed up at him.

"Why? What's wrong with it?" Tristan smirked and shifted his eyes throughout the room.

"Nothing. It looks good…" he muttered mischievously. I narrowed my eyes and furrowed my brow.

"There is something wrong with it, isn't there? I'll have you know that I didn't pick it out…" I announced pretentiously. Tristan nodded his head and pretended to be very interested.

"Oh, really…that's nice" he stated in a monotonic voice. I shifted uncomfortably and peered down at the menu. It was all in Chinese. I knew enough of the language to get by, but not enough to read it.

"Tristan—" my voice broke off as I realized my mistake "I mean Michael, would you mind ordering for me. I don't know half of what it says on this menu…"

"We're not eating here" Tristan asserted bluntly. I nodded my head and bit my lip innocently.

"Oh, I didn't know…"

"Well, if you want a drink or something—" Tristan began, but was stopped by the shaking of my head.

"No…I'll wait" I declared. Tristan looked down at the floor and ran his fingers across the silk. The way his hand gently trailed along the delicate material made my heartbeat quicken.

"It's beautiful…" he whispered in a low voice. My eyes rose in a seductive fashion and stopped, when they found his. I couldn't move or breathe. Everything in me froze and for some reason, I enjoyed it. I felt as if I had a massive hold over Tristan. My beauty had caused him to be cautious and weary of his actions.

"We should get going" I suggested, as I glanced up at the clock behind him.

"You never told me your real name" he whispered. I watched his lips form the words and melted in defeat.

"I didn't?" I questioned suddenly. He shook his head and took a sip from his glass.

"It's Paris" I whispered back. A smile crept on his face and remained there for quite some time.

"I like that name" he noted with a hidden glint in his eyes. I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and nervously smiled as well.

"As I said, we should get going." Tristan nodded and stood up. Then with one extended hand, he pulled me up and wrapped his arm about my waist.

"We're divorced remember?" I tried to remind him. Tristan shrugged his shoulders and gripped tighter around me. I could feel his fingers digging through the fabric of the gown.

"Yah, but none of these people know that" he answered roguishly.

We walked out together and got into our separate limousines. My nerves were going haywire and I could barely stand the idea of spending majority of the night with a supposed criminal; that being, Su Chin. My goal was to flirt with this guy and if worse came to worse, sleep with him. That was the only way to get the information that I needed.

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We arrived at the Chairman's house around 7:30pm. Tristan came over to my limousine and escorted me up the staircase to the entrance. There was a large chunk of Americans at the party, which surprised me a little. I knew that the Chairman had friendly ties with some head figures in the US, but I didn't know that he had this many. There was the Secretary of War and his wife in one corner of the room. In the other was the Ambassador surrounded by quite a few Congressmen. I gulped loudly and squeezed Tristan's hand.

"What's wrong?" he asked with concern. I stopped walking and turned my head.

"I don't know which one is Su Chin…" I stated hesitantly.

Tristan scanned the room and whispered in my ear:

"See the guy over there with the Navy blue suit and pale yellow tie?" My eyes followed the character he was depicting and finally rested on a stout man with piercing dark eyes.

"Yah, I see him…" I muttered. Tristan turned to look at the side of my face and parted his lips. I could feel his warm breath tickle its way down my cheek.

"That's your main focus. Try and get information out of him…" With that, Tristan slipped through the crowd. I was left alone at the entrance to the room. A number of men glanced in my direction and smirked. I could feel their minds reeling with erotic thoughts. This frightened me considerably. So, I casually sauntered past people and took a champagne glass from the first waiter that I laid eyes on.

Su Chin was talking with one of the Congressman on some heated debate. I noticed the veins on the side of his face popping out and his knuckles clenching. Something was not sitting right with him at the moment.

"Hello…I don't think we've met before" I began, as I butted in to their conversation. The Congressman took this as an opportunity to end the discussion and left.

"Who are you?" Su Chin demanded in a firm voice. A little taken aback, I pouted my lips and extended my hand.

"Anna Ferris, ex-wife of Michael Ferris" I asserted eloquently. The man's eyes trailed down my chest and hungrily gaped at my body.

"He was a very lucky man…" Su Chin remarked with a dirty smirk. I smiled as well pretending like I was interested.

"I'm sure he's not half the man that you are though." Su Chin laughed at that comment and watched as I took a sip from my wine glass.

"Can I get you a refill?" he inquired motioning towards the bar on the other side of the room. I nodded and handed the glass to him. As he paced away, Tristan came out of nowhere and scooted me over to the side of the room.

"You alright?" he mumbled in my ear. I nodded my head and stepped away from him.

"Su Chin will be back any minute…he can't see us together like this—"

"It's alright…I'm his stock consultant" Tristan added quickly. I nodded my head and flashed a smile as the Ambassador and his wife passed by.

"Do you have access to his files?" I asked under my breath. Tristan glanced over at me and didn't respond.

"We shouldn't be discussing this here" he announced with a cautious air. I decided not to push the topic and proceeded in keeping my eyes level with the ground and my mouth shut.

A minute went by before Su Chin came parading back with a full glass of champagne in his hand. I smiled and graciously drank the intoxicating liquid.

"Michael…" Su Chin welcomed with a slight bow. Tristan bowed his head forward as well and motioned towards me.

"I see you've met my lovely ex-wife, Anna."

Su Chin cocked his head to the side and took his time examining which ever part of my body that pleased him.

"Yes…lovely indeed" he remarked with another smile. My cheeks began to turn red, as I peered over at Tristan.

"Michael has told me so much about you" I began elatedly. Tristan's eyes flashed up and then down towards the floor.

"Hopefully all good things" Su Chin proclaimed with a hearty laugh. I played along and giggled.

"Oh, yes. I promise they were all good things, Mr. Chin. How could they not be?" Tristan stated audaciously, as he raised his champagne glass.

"To a brilliant businessman, who became a wonderful friend" Tristan announced, as he raised his glass to Su Chin.

"Cheers…" I muttered under my breath. The sound of clanking glass echoed through the room and mingled with the noise all around us.

"Thank you for that Michael and thank you for introducing this lovely creature…" he whispered, as he leaned forward and kissed my hand.

"Oh, please don't tell me that you're leaving" I denounced with a pout. Su Chin nodded his head and pulled out a business card from his side pocket.

"Call me sometime…" he whispered. I took it in my hands and slipped the small card under the fabric near my right breast.

"For safe keeping" I stated with a sultry look on my face. Su Chin laughed to himself and walked away.

A wry grin formulated on Tristan's face, as he took a sip from his champagne glass.

"What?" I spat in curiosity. He just shook his head and relaxed his features.

"You handled that well" he teased. I gritted my teeth and drank down the last half of my drink in one gulp.

"I'm heading back to my hotel. Call me tomorrow morning?"

Tristan nodded his head and ran his fingers down the back of his head. I quickly placed my glass on top of a tray that a waiter was carrying and turned to leave.

"Hey…be careful" Tristan advised from behind me. I stopped in my tracks and debated whether or not to swing back around; but, I didn't. Instead, I continued sauntering through the room past hundreds of people ranging from Congressmen to Council members to important stock holders.

As I was exiting out the entrance and descending the steps, my cell phone began to ring. I quickly searched through my handbag and flipped open my phone.

"Hello?" I answered uneasily.

"Be careful of Dugrey…he's not who you think he is…" a voice whispered on the other line. I positioned the phone away from my ear and looked down at the white screen. It read in block letters "_unknown number_."

"Who is this?" I demanded with frustration. There was a crackling noise and then, a loud bang.

"That's not important… remember the name 'Simon.'" With that, the line went dead. I froze for a second and brought the phone away from my ear. _Who the hell was that??_

"Anna!" someone called. I whipped around to find Zach down by the limousine. Never had I missed seeing a familiar face so much.

"Come on…" he mouthed. I nodded my head and continued to descend the steps. It was a little difficult getting use to the new name, but it grew on me. After awhile, the name Anna would become natural to me and my new identity would fill in all the gaps.

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_Hey guys: Please review and give me your feedback, so that I know to continue with this story:) Thanks a lot!!!_

_Brittany_


	4. Thank You

Afternoon approached swiftly and I had not heard a word from Tristan. I waited by the phone, pacing around like a nervous wreck; just hoping, thinking…wondering.

My fingers tapped against the wooden table in a rhythmic fashion as I stared out the window. Cars and people of all different shapes and sizes zoomed by; unaware that a pair of eyes were watching them enviously. I often thought about what it would be like to be free; to not carry the burden of always worrying.

I cradled my head in my hands and began to weep. Tears flowed down from my cheeks and stained my red linen skirt that fell just above my ankles. The thoughts, the memories, and the missed opportunities were all too much to bear.

Running my fingers through my long blonde hair, I lifted up my head and peered dead ahead. A portrait of a girl holding a single rose consumed my attention. She had beautiful dark eyes and an expression that left me baffled.

Out of the blue, a loud knock echoed down the hallway. I quickly stood up and brushed away the remaining tears on my cheeks. _I'm not expecting company…_

Ambling down the narrow hall, I extended a hand and barely touched the door handle. I was too scared to.

"Anna! Open up!" a voice shouted on the other side. I knew who it was and I refused to give in.

"I don't want to!" I yelled back, as I leaned against the door and stared down at the tile floor. A few seconds went by before another knock pulsated through the wooden entrance, shaking my body.

"What?!" I yelled again with fury raging in my voice. My fists clenched and my feet grinded into the floor.

"Just open up…" was all that floated in through the cracks. I placed my hand against my forehead and let out a sigh.

"You were supposed to call me, Michael!" I shouted in a hoarse voice. It sounded odd using his fake name, but we had to keep our real identities as hidden as possible. I could hear shuffling on the other side of the door and then a loud grunt.

"Please…" he ordered once more. I set aside my pride and nodded my head, reaching down towards the metal handle. Twisting it to the left, the latch came undone and a figure emerged.

"Took you long enough" he declared with an unpleasant frown. I returned the dirty look and followed Tristan into the living room.

His blonde strands of hair were messy and probably hadn't seen a comb in months. A maroon short-sleeve shirt coated his upper body and faded denim jeans hung low along his hips.

"You were supposed to call this morning. You promised!" I scorned with narrowed eyes. Tristan held up his hands in defense and shrugged his shoulders.

"Since when do you care about promises?" he shot back with a curious glance. I swung around and let out a disbelieving chuckle.

"Some people actually care about loyalty, alright?" I remarked in anger. The room seemed to heat up a tremendous quantity, causing me to break out in a cool sweat. Tristan ran his knobby fingers down the side of his face and sighed.

"Geeze, I'm sorry already!" he huffed. I could tell that he was getting worked up over this little confrontation too. The veins along his temples rose above the surface of the skin. His cheeks flushed and his eyes bulged.

"What do you want?" I snapped in a clear, concise voice. Tristan sat down on the couch opposite of me and I did the same. He didn't speak or attempt to make eye contact for a long while. I studied the side of his face and photographed a mental picture of him in my mind. The chiseled nose and the sharp curve of his jaw…his eyes.

"I thought we should wait a couple days before you call Su Chin" he began in a low voice. I furrowed my brows and further tucked my legs underneath the folds of my skirt.

"I don't want him getting the impression that you're desperate or that you want something out of him. For now, you'll wait and snag him when I say you'll snag him" he stated brusquely. I bit my lip and kept my gaze fixed on the hibiscus plant sitting on the ledge out near the veranda. The sound of his voice made me cringe and yearn to rebel. Tristan was trying to control me; to allow himself to overpower me. Low and behold, I wasn't going to break that easily.

"I'm ready to catch this guy now. Who said you could call the shots?" I questioned crossly. Tristan's eyes flashed up near mine, as he shifted on the sofa uncomfortably.

"It is not a question of who gave authority to whom, Paris. You will do as I say." The sound of his voice cut through the air and sliced my confidence in half. I squirmed agitatedly on the other side of room and tried to keep my cool.

"My father use to sound just like you. He would say to me in a deep voice: _You'll do as I say Paris because you can't think for yourself_…and he was right" I whispered, as I turned my face to the side. Shadows of light danced across the multicolored tiles and created an assortment of shapes. I bent my head lower and shut my eyes.

"I've lost a part of myself ever since I joined the CIA. It's like my soul withered up and died. I don't know my own identity and it scares me…" My voice trailed off with the noise coming from the crowded street. I blinked a couple times and turned to look at him.

"Zach was the first real friend I ever had. He saved my life numerous times and loves me regardless of who I become. No one's ever done that for me before." I scrunched my forehead and allowed a few tears to spill down my rosy cheeks. Tristan dropped his gaze upon the floor and bit the inside of his cheek. A flash of sadness and resentment sprung out through his eyes and mingled with the words that slipped past my lips.

"He saved me from this building one time in Budapest. I was only eighteen and hadn't been working for the CIA more than a few months. A group of revolutionists had taken me captive and kept me locked up in a one-room apartment somewhere in the city. They cut my hands…my legs…"

I pulled back my sleeves and motioned towards the faint scars all along my wrists.

"They ordered me to reveal myself…to tell them my name…who I worked for…why I was there…"

Tristan got up from his seat and slowly approached me. Kneeling down only a foot away, he took my hands in his and waited patiently for me to continue.

"I didn't tell them though…I couldn't tell them" I whispered. "In all honesty, I didn't remember who I was anymore. The CIA made me change myself so many times to fit so many different personas that I choked. All I could do was sit there and stare out the window. They would slap me and threaten to kill me, but it didn't matter. I had nothing to reveal."

I bent my head and placed my hand over my face. The hot salty tears fell upon my skin and streamed this way and that like a river. Tristan extended his hand and lifted up my chin with his fingertips. I tried to look away, but he made me peer into his eyes. Then, he whispered:

"You haven't lost yourself, Paris. It's just locked away in here…"

Tristan brushed his finger against my chest where my heart laid.

"Give yourself more credit. You were born into this life for a reason. Now whether or not you've found that reason is debatable, but it exists. Look inside yourself and there you will find your true character." He intertwined his fingers with mine and flashed me a smile full of compassion. I innocently bit my lip and broke my gaze away from him.

"Thank you…" I murmured under my breath. The feeling of his fingers drawing small shapes along my hand told me that he had received the message.


End file.
